Elementary school went along with all its ups and downs. Jimin and Minjoon were always in the same class. Other students sat far away from them, but they didn’t care. They were in their own world, reading comics and looking at YouTube videos. The teachers didn’t make much of it either, but the two could tell that they weren’t particularly fond of them, giving them dirty looks when they hugged each other in the hallway.

                It was June, and Jimin went out for a stroll with his mother. The hot sun beat down on them, scorching the air and the plants and the small road. The trees stood tall, their green leaves soaking up the sunshine, and the faint hum of cicadas and bees intertwined with the soft gurgle of running water. They crossed the little bridge over to the other side of the river.

                “Minjoon couldn’t make it today. He said he felt sick,” Jimin said.

                “Ok,” his mother replied. “Do you know which high school Minjoon is going to?”

                “Oh, I think he told me last week! He said…” Jimin’s voice trailed off.

                His mother stopped and looked down at him. “What’s wrong, Jimin? Are you not feeling well?”

                Jimin looked up, his eyes b with tears. “Minjoon said he got accepted to an honours class in a different district and he can’t come to the same high school as me!” And with that, he fell into the soft green grass and sobbed.

                His mother bent down and held her son’s tiny little hands. “Jimin, it’s not all over yet! You still have his email from projects you did at school, right? You can still talk to him, and if you guys have time, you can go to each other’s houses.”

                “But, Minjoon told me that his dad got a new job near his new school, so he’s going to move away and I’ll never see him again!” Jimin said, pulling his hands away and grabbing fistfuls of grass. Little shreds of grass flew up in the air when he shook his hands in a fit.

                “Jimin, think about it. You can make new friends. And you won’t be leaving Minjoon entirely. He’s still going to be there with you. Right here.” And with that, his mother took her finger and gently poked Jimin in the chest, right above his heart.

                Jimin snivelled, rising up from the ground and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. He walked away, his small, dejected figure highlighted by the rays of sunshine that streamed through the foliage above them.

-----

                It was the last day of school, and Jimin promised not to cry. It was hard not to, since all of the girls were crying and hugging and blubbering about not seeing each other. But he already did that with his mom, so he was determined not to do the same.

                Minjoon approached him quietly, so quietly that Jimin jumped away when Minjoon laid a hand on his shoulder.

                “Hey,” he said. “So, I’m moving away tomorrow, and I was wondering if you wanted to come over just one last time.” His voice quivered, his strange habit of biting his bottom lip when he was upset showing.

                “Of course I want to come,” Jimin said.

                They waited for the bell to ring, fidgeting in their seats and throwing guilty little glances at each other. Right at the sound of the bell, they both lept out of their chairs and bolted out the door, much to the bewilderment of their classmates. But it didn’t matter to them, with the adrenaline pumping through their veins and happiness sparking through their souls. The only thing that mattered was that this was the last day they would get to see each other, face to face, and as they ran, there was desperation in their footsteps.

                As Jimin and Minjoon approached the front door, they paused on the doorstep, panting and laughing.

                “Did you see their faces?” Minjoon asked, breathless. “They looked like they were going to be sick.”

                Jimin laughed, clutching his stomach and almost doubling over. “Come on, let’s get inside.”

                They ducked inside of the house, rushing upstairs past the piles of boxes. The house felt empty, their footsteps echoing throughout the empty halls. The little life that the house once had was swallowed up in its pitiful future, but now, it was reanimated by the two young thirteen year old boys who ran up its stairs.

                They crashed into Minjoon’s room, and apart from the bed and a small CD player on the ground, there was absolutely nothing. “Mom took all of my stuff and put them into boxes,” Minjoon explained. “The movers will get the bed, and I’ll hold the stereo. I still need to practice my dancing.”

                Jimin nodded, his cheeks flushed pink. “Yeah, it’s kind of empty.”

                The room fell quiet. The birds outside chirped, and the soft summer breeze blew the aroma of apples and grass through the open window. Minjoon walked towards the stereo and turned it on. A soft piano piece played, and he collected himself in the center of the room. Jimin stood back, watching, in awe.

                If Minjoon had told him that he was using 100% of his effort in his past performances, then today, he was using at least 200%. It looked as if he was being engulfed by the music, as if the notes were guiding him where to go, where to place his feet, when to do a small leap or a pirouette. He moved like the wind that blew through the window.

                When the music faded and Minjoon stood in front of Jimin, his chest heaving up and down, Jimin stood there, speechless. Minjoon moved closer, his breathing becoming louder and louder, the sound strangely calming. He leaned forward, and by instinct, Jimin leaned forward at the same time, and their lips touched.

                This was different from the kisses Jimin’s mother would give him on the forehead or on the cheek or on the tip of his nose. This was the kind of kiss that he would never let his mother in on. Minjoon’s lips were so soft and plump, and when they connected, they stayed like that for a short moment. They were so close, and Minjoon’s hands made their way around Jimin’s waist and pulled them together. He could feel the heat from Minjoon’s body radiating off of him, and as they separated, Jimin felt a rush of euphoria.

                Minjoon’s eyes twinkled, the rich, chocolatey brown staring. His lips were slightly redder than before. “How was that?” he asked.

                “It was absolutely perfect,” Jimin replied.